It's For a Good Cause
by White Scaramouche
Summary: A seemingly trivial fundraiser stirs up much more than expected. Inspired by those matchmaker fundraisers they have in highschool. MMAD.
1. Chapter 1

**It's For Charity!**

**I don't anything, if I did, MMAD would be CANON!**

**A/N This is set shortly after Voldemort lost power for the first time.**

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"So, professors, if we charged five sickles for the arithmancy matchmaker, and three for the secret crush service, we could raise quite a lot of money for the foundation. We were thinking it would be best if we distributed the results in time for Valentine's Day." Gwendolyn Oliphantfinished.

Finally both professors answered the girl simultaneously.

"Absolutely not!"

"Certainly!"

Minerva McGonagall's head whipped around to face her boss. His deputy looked like he had agreed to revive the annual Hufflepuff streak. "You can't be serious?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "I assure you I possess that capability, despite my infrequent use of it."

"That's not what I meant." Was her even reply. "Think of what sort of madness this could lead to. I have enough happy couples displaying their affection in inappropriate manners in the corridor as it is."

"The world can always use a little bit more love, Minerva" Dumbledore firmly interrupted, looking steadily at McGonagall. Minerva's eyes widen slightly. They remained like that for what seemed like an eternity to Gwendolyn, who felt like she had walked into something private, even though the meeting had been about _her_ proposal.

"So, can we do it, sir?" Was the anxious sixth year's attempt at directing the conversation back to the realm of fundraising. It worked insomuch that the two professors ended their staring contest. "It's the least we can do to for the brave victims of torture," Gwendolyn continued.

"I think it will be a fun way of helping the patients in St. Mungo's" Dumbledore said, however, if my deputy has serious concerns..."

"No, no, I suppose it is really a thoughtful idea Miss Oliphant" McGonagall conceded.

"Then it's appears that you request has been granted, Miss Oliphant" added Dumbledore.

"Well, if there is no further need for my presence…" McGonagall moved toward the door. "Goodnight Miss Oliphant, Professor Dumbledore" She nodded to both and exited the room.

As she traveled down the corridor, she had to blink once or twice, but her face was the picture of composure by the time she reached her chambers.

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Minerva McGonagall had succeeded in forgetting the whole thing a fortnight latter when she passed by pink heart shaped posters on the stone walls on the way to her first class of the day. She stopped and read one.

**FIND TRUE LOVE FOR VALENTINE'S DAY!**

Underneath the heading was written.

TRY THE ARITHMANCY CALCULATOR AND THE SECRET ADMIRER SERVICE!!

JUST FIVE SICKLES FOR EACH!!

And below that was

All proceeds go to help patients in St. Mungo's due to the resent conflict. The image of a chubby baby with wings and a bow and arrow winked at passersby.

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As the transfiguration professor traveled through the halls during the following days, she overheard a large amount of discussion over the upcoming event, and more importantly, the results. In a mostly deserted corridor:

"I am afraid to use the secret admirer service."

"They only find out if they like you too."

"I know but…what if one of the Service Club members peak! A lot of them are friends with Greg!"

In the library:

"I hope I get paired with Marsha on both."

"Greg, I bet the arithmancy calculator tells you that you are most romantically compatible with Moaning Myrtle."

"That's not funny."

"I guess I'll be breaking up Greg and Marsha's 'study' sessions on a regular basis soon." Thought McGonagall.

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	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own anything, except for a nice shoe collection….**

**A/N I didn't anticipate anything but fluff for this fic, but a leeeetle bit of angst has crept in… Reviews are appreciated!**

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The February 10th edition of the Daily Prophet was landing in front of Albus Dumbledore when he noticed the presence of his deputy. She had taken her seat silently and was viewing her waffles with great interest. Dumbledore looked back at his paper, and perused the headlines. After awhile he leaned over to Professor Kettleburn and pointed to an article about a dragon that had been found in the Amazon despite being a member of a species long thought extinct. McGonagall's eyes darted over to the two wizards for a moment before returning to her breakfast.

Instead of facing each other and talking animatedly to each other as the students were used to seeing, McGonagall and Dumbledore rarely spoke to each at all, and when they did, neither party smiled or gave any indication of familiarity. The rest of the staff observed the pair, but made no comment about the distant way the Headmaster and his deputy were acting towards each other, just as they had made no comment about similar behavior over the last couple of days.

The students on the other hand, not sitting at the same table as McGonagall and Dumbledore, were free too discuss what was becoming obvious as the days wore on. "I wonder what's up with them?"

"McGonagall's been rather cross in class lately too."

"She didn't seem to happy when he overrode her decision about my Matchmaker idea." Offered Gwendolyn

"It can't just be that though, can it?"

"Oh, I was meaning to ask you Gwen, are we passing out forms to the staff too?" inquired a fellow member of the Service Club.

"Oh, Dumbledore said he thought the matchmaker option would be 'a bit of amusement for the staff' or something like that, but we have to separate their forms from the rest of the school's" answered Gwendolyn.

"What about the secret admirer option?" asked another Service Club member.

"Well I suppose they'll just leave it blank. Unless Filch wants to try his luck with Madame Pince." Replied Gewndolyn.

"Ew! Bad picture!"

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Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall had risen from her chair and was making her way out of the great hall. Pamona Sprout excused herself and followed. When McGonagall was about to enter her office, Sprout called out to her. "May I have a word Minerva?"

"Certainly, although I have class in half and hour."

"I don't want to pry, but Minerva, you and Dumbledore are barely speaking, and well, we're all a little concerned. The two of you always seemed like such good friends and I was wondering if there was anything we could…"

But McGonagall cut her off "Look, Pamona, Albus and I, are going through a bit of a rough patch, but it's nothing you should worry about. It's between us."

"I'm sorry to intrude on you and the headmaster's privacy, but you're making everyone nervous with your meal-time behavior."

"What behavior?"

"Well, there was the one time on Tuesday when you pretended not to hear Professor Dumbledore ask for the syrup, and when you did get around to passing it, you practically threw it."

"You don't understand."

"Then explain it to me."

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After they had both taken up chairs inside McGonagall's office, Pamona tried a gentler tactic.

"He's a great wizard, but that doesn't mean putting up with such a dominating personality all the time is easy. I would understand how having your feelings about the matchmaker swept aside would be frustrating. It was the straw that broke the camel's back huh?" Pamona gave Minerva her best commiserative nod.

"That's not what I'm angry about."

"Then what?"

"I don't know how to start."

"Please try."

McGonagall took a deep breath. "Albus and I have, a, ah…history"

"Yes, you've known him for so long, and he was your mentor during your last years as a student, and you two collaborated before you taught correct?"

"Not that kind of a history."

Comprehension slowly spread across Pamona Sprout's face. "You were in a romantic relationship with Albus Dumbledore!?"

"Not exactly" She seemed to prepare her thoughts and then continued. "Yes, he was a strong influence on me when I was younger, and I looked up to him greatly. I believe my little crush may have existed as early as my sixth year, but I didn't admit my feelings to myself until I away from school, and him." Minerva leaned forward and put her elbow on her desk. She ran her fingers through her hair and resumed her narrative. "I volunteered to go with other Junior Aurors to help fight Grindelwald's only ten months into training because things were looking grim. I remember seeing Albus again for the first time since graduation at a celebration just days after Grindelwald's defeat. The man didn't look like a victorious hero. Amidst all the revelry he was just sitting there looking tired. He saw me, and I had to come over and say something. Well, I thought perhaps some firewhiskey would cheer him up. We started making toasts that went from half hearted to rather spirited, and then we were upstairs, and, and…"

Pamona covered her mouth. "You slept with him?"

Minerva sighed "No. That wouldn't be quite as bad. At least he'd have something to be embarrassed about too…No, he told me that he didn't understand why I didn't even have a beau. He said I was 'as pretty as they come' and 'bright to boot' and if he we my age he'd 'snatch me up in an instant'. I took that as my cue to tell him how I felt, but I now know he had meant, in is stupor, to comfort me about not being married, not to profess any feelings himself."

"What did he say?"

"That I shouldn't think of throwing myself at someone that old. Suddenly he seemed so uncomfortable."

"You poor dear." Pamona offered. "But I still don't understand why this is coming up now."

"Well, during the war with He Who Must Not be Named, I couldn't fall asleep unless I knew he was back from his missions, so I'd wait for him in his office till he came back, ready with healing potions and the like if they were needed. There was one night in particular that I was so worried he wouldn't come back that I swore to myself that if he came back, I would tell him what he meant to me. Again. Well, I did it, but this time he said it was much too dangerous for him to be involved with anyone. He said You Know Who and his followers would try to get at him any way they could, and he could never let something happen to someone else 'just because of that'. But now he's gone, and the Death Eaters all in Azkaban, but he has never spoken of it. I refuse to be turned down a third time. To add insult to injury, he makes a mockery of me. In front of that Oliphant girl he says there not enough love in this world or some rubbish." She was breathing hard and her voice was rising. "And he tells us in the staff meeting that we should all fill out the forms 'in good fun' but to me it ISN'T GOOD FUN! To me it's everything. He acts hurt if I don't play the part of good friend, but he ignores all the pain he's caused me over the years and I'M SICK OF IT!"

"All I can say Minerva is that I think he wants to mend things, but he doesn't know how because he doesn't know why you're angry exactly." Pamona offered. "Try to patch things up."

"I just don't know."

"At least try."

"I will try." Minerva thought. "I guess I could bring him some biscuits tonight. That's as sure a way as any to gain Dumbledore's forgiveness."


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own anything that seems familiar. Please don't sue.**

**A/N Thanks to all who reviewed!**

Minerva McGonagall had to levitate her grocery bags as she opened the door to her chambers. In addition to her usual purchases, she had another bag's worth of ingredients to make ginger newts. Minerva made her way to her small kitchen in the back of her quarters, her floating groceries following behind. She put a large disk onto an old fashion machine resembling a gramophone, only without a pick-up. Instead the disk began to spin on it's own about an inch from the surface of the machine and music filled the professor's chambers. A rare smile crossed her face as she unconsciously swayed to a lively swing instrumental. Turning back to her bags, she quickly put away the contents of all but one. When that was done she pulled out the bowls and measuring instruments she would need from various cabinets. As she worked, memories of her mother appeared in her mind.

She always associated the kitchen with her mother. When she was young, she had helped her mother cook. Witches and wizards often complemented her mother on her biscuits, and of all her creations, Mrs. McGonagall had always been most proud of her ginger newts. She had taught Minerva, her only daughter, her secret method saying, "someday you'll make these for your husband". When that particular memory surfaced, she paused for a second in her work. She did not allow herself to hope that her mother's words had been prophetic.

The transfiguration professor's momentary reverie ended when the timer went off for her first batch. She selected one ginger newt from the tray and took an investigative bite. She deemed that batch a success and slid the rest into a tin. A quick warming spell was cast to keep her biscuits in the perfect state. She then cast a preservative spell on the batter and set out for the headmaster's office, with her offering tucked under her arm.

She reached the entrance to the headmaster's office without meeting any staff members, although she did pass several advertisements for the upcoming matchmaker. Her high spirits were unchanged, however, until the door opened to reveal that Albus Dumbledore already had a visitor.

Professor Sinistra was seated on the edge of the headmaster's desk. Between them was a plate of heart shaped biscuits covered in light pink icing and bright pink sprinkles. The remnant of a laugh remained on the astronomy professor's face as she turned around to see who was there.

"Oh hello Minerva. What is it you have there?"

"Oh, I was just baking and I thought I'd share."

"Well, it seems everyone's been baking lately."

" I can see that."

"Yes, I found this recipe and I just _had _to try it out with Valentine's Day just two days away."

Dumbledore leaned over so he could see his deputy and said "I'm sorry, but I believe I've had enough biscuits for now Minerva. Hagrid will be here soon for an appointment. I'm sure he will appreciate some of your excellent ginger newts. That is what you've brought of course?"

"Yes" was all that Minerva trusted herself to say.

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At the next day's faculty meeting, Minerva was preoccupied with thoughts about one thing. "She's always so positive about everything he suggests. Really." She thought. "He should be able to see through the little brown noser…. but what is it that she wants? She must be thinking that flirting will help her career. But you wanted more than that when you were her age. You still do. Accept the possibility that someone else might."

"Minerva?" Albus' voice brought her back to the meeting.

"Yes, I think it's a fine idea." She replied. She was pretty sure they had been discussing a proposal to organize a trip to a performance of a Wizarding classic that was playing in London.

"Really?" Said an incredulous Flitwick.

Merlin's beard! What had she agreed to?

**A/N pst…leave a review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't own anything in this story. Just passing through.**

**A/N Thanks to those who reviewed. It seems that ending with a cliffhanger drums up a response…**

Minerva consoled herself as she got out of bed with the thought that at the very least, even though it would not in all likelihood be pleasant, this Valentine's Day would not be disappointingly uneventful like the countless ones before it. The question was what attire would be appropriate for the festivities latter that day. Something waterproof perhaps.

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Breakfast that morning was marked by an unusual amount of energy in the students who usually were most quiet at the early meal. The questionnaires had been distributed and hundreds of quills scratched away. Nervous glances to see if anyone was peaking gave away the students who were considering using the Secret Admirer Service as well.

At the head table, Minerva went on eating her porridge. Her blank questionnaire lay under her bowl. The other professors were filling out theirs with varying levels of seriousness. Dumbledore had put of filling his out as well, but seemingly only because his strawberry waffles had distracted him. With some remnants of his meal still on his beard, he perused the paper through his spectacles. A quill appeared in his hand and he began marking his paper. Minerva had observed all this as inconspicuously as possible. She did not look at her paper however until a certain Astronomy professor began to fill out hers. Just as she went to pull her from under her breakfast, another hand reached across the table and grabbed it.

"Finished professor?"

With an adamancy that startled the first year whom had been assigned to collect the forms, Minerva replied in the negative. There was no way that she would let the arithmancy calculator pair Albus with Sinistra. The paper was now before her as she considered the first question:

_Which do you prefer, the fall or the spring?_

Professor McGonagall was a fan of autumn foliage.

_Are you a cat person or a dog person?_

That one was easy.

_What is more important, honesty or good works?_

The ends justify the means she supposed.

The questions turned to how she viewed herself, and then, the to the qualities she looked for in a romantic partner. At last, one optional question remained:

_What fellow __student__ do you have a crush on? (They will only be informed if they also enter your name.)_

Underneath student was written colleague. She had not intended to fill it out, but some impulse made her change her mind. So quickly she almost knocked over her orange juice, she wrote "Albus Dumbledore". The parchment was folded a moment latter and in the hands of the first year soon after. As she watch the rest of the table's occupants hand in their forms, a wave of dread washed over her. She had entrusted a deeply guarded secret with a bunch of students. Sure they said that there were privacy spell in place, but she had taught them, and her confidence in their ability to create an unbreakable ward was low.

"You will all receive the results after dessert this evening" Gwendolyn announced to the assembled students before they were dismissed.

Minerva did not have much time to dwell on her decision because her classes awaited, and after that, was the festivities planned for after dinner. The thought of the last minute addition to the fundraising campaign that she had unwittingly volunteered for was almost enough to drive away her thoughts about the matchmaker situation. When dinnertime came, however, Minerva could not focus at all on her food, because her mind kept concentrating on what was to be delivered after dessert. Her pudding tasted like gruel in her mouth. Dumbledore looked slightly strained as well, and his pudding dish was unusually full.

Swiftly after the dessert disappeared from the tables, the hall was filled with hundreds of pink butterflies, which on closer inspection proved to be folded paper. While most of the origami insects were a pastel colour, a few shocking pink butterflies stood out. It soon was discovered by the students that those who had received the brighter butterflies had an admirer who returned their feelings. At the staff table, the headmaster and his deputy simultaneously realized the significance of their neon pink paper without opening them. Instead, they quickly stowed their results in their robes before the rest of the faculty caught on. They still were not meeting each other's eyes, but for an entirely different reason. Remembering that the evening was not over, Dumbledore stepped forward and attempted to gain the attention of the distracted students.

"As promised this morning, we will now begin the second fundraiser for the St. Mungo's charity. Professors Spurtle, Kettleburn, McGonagall, and Dwight will each take a turn at all the different stations. Remember, it is ten sickles for the pies, but five for the dunking tank. The transfiguration professor was admirably stoic as she watched her students attempt to drench her and then to hit her with pies. She gave a bit of a yelp the first time she was dunked, but onlookers wondered at her ability to take it all in, almost as if she were somewhere else entirely.

When it was all over, she used a cleaning spell to reverse the damage as best she could as she made her way back to her chambers. She never arrived there. Instead she met the headmaster on her way.

"Ah, Minerva could you see me in my office for a moment?"

"Yes certainly."

As soon as the door shut behind them, Dumbledore took a deep breath and faced his deputy.

"I believe we should, ah…discuss this matter, and I owe you an explanation."

"Go on."

"Minerva, I have always acted in what I though was your best interest. Although I would have loved to have told you that I returned your feelings that time in Germany…I thought that you would soon regret ever becoming involved that way with me. I was too old, and too weary for you. The second time, I felt horrible because I realized that you had given me your heart for all those years despite my efforts to dissuade you. But still I could not accept because it would have been too dangerous. I can't undo the past, but now I want to make the right choice. Minerva, I love you. Will you forgive me and give us a chance?"

Minerva closed her eyes and was silent. Albus started to speak but she stopped him.

"Before I answer you, can you tell me what's been going on between you and Sinistra."

Albus blinked. "She evidently set on being Slytherin head next year when Dwight leaves, but she worries I might select Severus instead."

"Oh."

"Is that all?"

"Not quite." Minerva reached into her robes and pulled out something, which she hid behind her back. She took her wand in her other hand and cast an enlarging spell. She had shrunk a pie and saved it. She smiled sweetly and stepped towards Albus, who looked slightly puzzled but could not help a grin beginning to appear. He closed his eyes and leaned in for what he thought was a kiss.

THWACK!

The bewildered wizard touched his lemon meringue coated face and began to chuckle.

"_Now_ you are forgiven."

**A/N This was my first chapter fic. Hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are appreciated.**


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